


Little Mess

by Ace_Of_Fleurons



Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kissing, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, Romance, Sort Of, This is Legit the Fluffiest Thing I've Written, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, like a LOT of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Of_Fleurons/pseuds/Ace_Of_Fleurons
Summary: Howl's been telling bedtime stories to their girls again, and this time Sophie's been noticing.It's hard not to notice when they start acting out the stories in the living room.
Relationships: Sophie Hatter & Howl Pendragon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Little Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [There_Was_A_Star_Danced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/There_Was_A_Star_Danced/gifts).



The blonde-hair girl sat haughtily upon her throne made of encyclopedias, sewing boxes, and magical tomes. She confidently gripped her broomstick-staff and rested a small cheek against her palm, staring down her nose at her little sister who walked with a purposeful hunch.

“You come to me,” said the older royal-sister with a rise to her tone, “telling me that your best wizard is not available at this turbulent time? When MY kingdom is in chaos?”

The younger sister slumped her shoulders, dropping her facade. She tugged on her black ringlets. “Sis, the king was _nice_ , remember? And there isn’t any chaos yet, the wizard needs to come into the palace first.”

Rolling her eyes, the royal-sister waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” She cleared her voice and amended her previous statement. “Your best wizard isn’t available… whenever? When the royal invitation is sent, one cannot simply just wave it away as if it were some children’s tea party! What gives?”

The younger sister returned to her fake hunch and thoughtfully scratched her chin. “Well, you see, your majesty…” she began in a scratchy, old lady voice.

Listening from the next room over, Sophie chuckled to herself. They were playing out her meeting with the king again, although she didn’t remember ever telling them about that particular story…

Sophie rolled her eyes over her freshly-cut carrots, pouring them into the steaming soup pot. “Howl,” she muttered to herself.

“What about him?”

The last chunk of carrot fell crookedly into the pot, causing water to splash all over the side of the fireplace and dangerously close to Calclifer.

“Hey, watch it!” cried the flame demon. “I’m only helping you ‘cause you asked, and I can leave you and your soup cold if I wanted to.”

Sophie picked up a log from the side of the brick hearth and threw it to Calcifer. “Sorry about that, Calcifer, but I don’t control where the carrots fall. That’s gravity’s job.”

Calcifer huffed a large puff of black smoke to show his displeasure. “Gravity needs to find a new career,” he grumbled.

A loud, squeaky voice rose above the boiling soup. “You mean to tell me that you _lost_ your best wizard!?”

Sophie shook her head. “That’s not at all how it went,” she whispered to Calcifer. “Either they have a wild imagination, or Howl certainly did while telling them the story.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

Sophie was wrapped up in a strong, all-encompassing embrace that filled her vision with gaudy, sparkling colors. She shrieked, dropping the ladle into the stew and falling back into her husband.

“Howl!” she gasped, staring up into his laughing green eyes that were so hard to stay mad at. “At least give me a warning next time!”

Howl pecked her on the nose. “Where’s the fun if you see it coming?” he retorted with a chuckle. With a final squeeze, he let Sophie go. “Where are the little kittens?”

Sophie glowered into the pot of soup that swallowed her spoon whole. “In the other room, recreating the story that you told them.”

Tapping his foot against the floorboards, Howl searched the ceiling for an answer. “Hmm, now which story would that be?” he mused. “There’s so many…”

Sophie hiked up her sleeves and tentatively hovered her fingers over the soup in preparation to recover her lost ladle. She peered over her shoulder. “Only my finest work in blackening your name,” she replied. “Now can you please help me with the soup?”

With a flick of Howl’s wrist, the stew in all its beef and potatoes and carrots parted in a spiraling waterspout of broth to reveal the spoon—dry and clean—laying at the bottom of the pot. Sophie gratefully sighed and reached in after it.

Howl came up again from behind her and rested his head on top of hers. “That’s a weird way to say it,” he muttered.

“What?” Sophie shot up so quickly that she heard the bottom of Howl’s jaw colliding with his teeth. She winced, turning around and apologetically holding his face in her hands. “I’m sorry. What’s weird?”

Ruefully, Howl held his hand to Sophie’s and whimpered, “You said ‘blackening’. That’s an odd way to say ‘professing your love’.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, snatching her hand away from him and returning to her soup. “That’s because I wasn’t saying that. I said what I meant, and that I was _blackening_ your name.”

Howl remained silent for a heartbeat after her response. He kept his distance, and for a moment Sophie felt a shock of guilt tinge her chest. She paused in her cooking. Was she too harsh?

Howl’s quiet, playful comment dashed any and all worries. “Well, could you ‘blacken’ it again now?”

At this, Calcifer groaned beneath the pot. “Not this again,” he lamented.

Sophie didn’t hear. She carefully sat the ladle next to the pot and turned, a cheeky smile that much resembled Howl’s teasing her lips.

“You’re fickle,” she began, approaching him slowly and reaching for his hand. He grasped it only moments before she grabbed his. “And careless, and selfish, and above all, hysterical.”

Howl chuckled, the low but pleasant sound rumbling in his chest and warming Sophie’s own as she pressed against him. “I’d call myself hilarious, but your description is probably closer to reality,” he quipped.

Smiling wider, Sophie continued. “Half the time I don’t think you even care what happens as long as _you,_ ” she pressed a finger to his chest to emphasize her point, “turn out alright. But then…”

Howl wrapped his arms around Sophie’s waist as her arms draped across his shoulders. His breath tickled the ribbons of her apron around her neck.

“I find out that you’ve been awfully kind to someone,” Sophie said with a giggle, her smile leaking into the edges her words. She stared into those green eyes that were oh, so hard to stay mad at. “But then I convince myself that you’re kind only because it suits you.”

Under his breath, noses nearly touching, Howl mused, “It _does_ suit me quite well, though.”

Sophie pulled him down, leading his lips down to hers. “And only then do I find out that you undercharge poor people,” she said after they pulled away from a quick peck. “And that you tell the kids bedtime stories. And that you help with the cooking, and the laundry, and kiss me goodnight even when I’m sicker than a dog.”

Sophie’s hands cradled the frames of Howl’s face, fingers tangling in the wind-rustled black hair that he neglected to comb before coming back home because he was too excited to see her again. She brushed the dirt from his cheek that he forgot to wash off because he didn’t care how he looked in front of his wife. He knew it didn’t matter, because...

“And because of all of those things,” Sophie whispered, and then giggled again as Howl pulled her in closer, “Yes, even the ‘blackened’ things...”

They kissed. Howl’s arm fit in the crook of her waist and anchored her to him, nestling her firmly but gently against himself so that the decorative buttons on his shirt didn’t strain against her. Sophie’s hands found their way around his hair, finally hanging loosely from his shoulders with all the tranquility that she could not find in her work. They smiled, laughed through their lips, and pulled each other back into their embrace with a gentle tug.

“I love you,” Sophie murmured into the crook of her husband’s neck.

Howl pressed his face into her hair, drinking in her scent that smelled of spices and sugar and home. “And I love you too, my dear,” he returned.

Calcifer bristled his flames higher in a vain attempt to grab the couple's attention. "Not in front of the kids!"

From the other room, the royal-sister rose from her patchwork throne and tapped her broom-scepter against the floorboards.

“Tell me more,” she commanded in her squeaky voice that sounded like a kitten’s mew and drowned out Calcifer's cry, “about this wizard of yours. Is he as troublesome as you say?”

The younger sister, with her eyes darting around the room in an attempt to find fantastical descriptions, found the doorway to the kitchen and her absolutely-smitten parents cooing inside. Dropping her act a little bit, the youngest daughter made a face as Howl dropped a squealing Sophie into a low lean—his arms around her hips, one of her legs splayed out between his—and kissed her again.

Turning back to the royal-sister, the younger sister shrugged her shoulders in genuine distaste and replied, “I don’t know, your majesty. He’s a mess.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY WITH HOW LONG THIS TOOK, BEA. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, REGARDLESS OF HOW LONG I SAT ON IT!
> 
> I've always been a huuuuge fan of the movie Howl's Moving Castle, and just recently I read the book. It was super charming, I loved how the characters interacted and wove in and out with the movie's plot. Even though this isn't based on the book or movie solely, I did add some references to the future books in Diana Wynne Jones' series. I hope I did well!
> 
> This is my first time writing a fic for pure ship without any plot, any angst, or any action. Hopefully you enjoy it, Bea!
> 
> Thank you for getting into this little "challenge" with me, and for being so patient!! I'd love to do this again sometime, it was a blast.


End file.
